


How I Met Your Brother

by TryingToMystrade (TryingToScribble)



Series: TTM Prompts [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Caring Mycroft, Mentions of past drug use, Protective!Lestrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 19:02:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7399882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TryingToScribble/pseuds/TryingToMystrade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg tells Sherlock how he and Mycroft met.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How I Met Your Brother

Greg paced back and forth in the sitting room of 221B Baker Street. He flipped through pages of a case file with frustration. Sherlock sat watching the older man from the comfort of his worn armchair. The tips of his fingers rested on his chin and his thoughts were solely focused on the Detective Inspector.

“You could help, you know.” Greg said as he turned to face the other man. “You don’t have to just sit there looking pretty.”

Sherlock made no attempt to reply or even acknowledge that Greg had spoken. The DI sighed heavily and moved forward. He pushed the folder against Sherlock’s chest with one firm hand. “I don’t care if it’s only a four.”

“Why do you smell like my brother?”

“What?” Greg said dumbly and took a step back in confusion at the sudden change.

After taking a breath Sherlock pushed forward in his chair and spoke again slowly. “Why do you smell like my brother?”

Greg shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked a little on his heels. He puffed up his cheeks and let out the air in a long breath. “We’ve been over this, Sherlock.”

“No, I don’t think we have.” Sherlock drawled.

“Yes, we have. Look, if you’re going to keep deleting-“

“No.”

Greg’s brow furrowed. “No?” Sherlock gave him a look of pure exasperation. It was as if he was looking at a complete idiot.

“No, I have not deleted the fact that you have some disgusting, lust crazed attraction to my brother.” Sherlock waved his hands as he spoke. “What I asked was why you smell like him.”

Greg eyed Sherlock sceptically and raised an eyebrow much like he had seen Mycroft do on occasion. “When two people love each other very much…” He started in an overly sarcastic voice.

It seemed Sherlock understood where that little talk was supposed to go and Greg could have laughed at the way Sherlock blanched at the thought. “Well, you asked.” He said with a smug smile.

The younger Holmes seemed to perfect his imitation of someone being very sick as he slumped in his chair mumbling something about “…don’t see it… doesn’t care… fat anyway…”

It was then that Greg jumped forward to interrupt him with a fist in his collar and a stern look that had Sherlock snapping his mouth shut.

This was a very angry Detective Inspector.

“Now you listen here.” Anger and frustration leaked from every word. “Mycroft is your brother. You say it often enough, now act like it.” He closed his eyes briefly and inhaled sharply through his nose. Then he pushed himself away using the hand holding Sherlock’s collar.

Greg spun and shoved his hands through his hair before turning back to point at him. “Do you know how much Mycroft does for you? How much he’s helped you?” With those words he seemed to deflate. “You never even asked how we met.” He was still angry but he realised there was no point shouting anymore.

Greg fell back into the other armchair, ignoring Sherlock’s ‘that’s John’s chair’ pout. He rung his hands together and leant forward to tell _that_ story.

“You know bits and pieces about how I met you. You know I found you drugged up to your eyeballs. You know I got you to the hospital. You know I almost arrested you.” His story started like he was narrating rather than accusing. “What you don’t know is what happened in between.

“The doctors at the hospital took you as soon as we were through the front doors. You were just a kid and we had no way to contact your family. So I waited.” Greg gave a short laugh as he continued. “I had never seen a man so composed in a hospital until he walked in. Just strolled right up to me and demanded your presence. It would have been funny if I hadn’t been so pissed off. I mean, this complete stranger just came up to me and gave me an order. So I did what any cop would have done and escorted him outside. I think the only reason I got away with it was because he was so shocked, but, obviously, he eventually told me who he was and I thought that was that.” The detective stared at the rug beneath his feet. He couldn’t look at Sherlock while he told the next bit.

“That was until I got a call. As the officer who found you they had it written that I should be contacted with any change in your condition.” There was a moment’s pause. “I said that I’d never seen a man so composed before. Well, if that was composure, then I’d never seen a man so broken as when I saw Mycroft by your bedside that day.

“He doesn’t speak to me about it, even now, but if I had to guess I’d say he hadn’t left your room since he got there.” Sherlock moved to speak but Greg cut him off before he could try. “No. Don’t. I know he runs the world or whatever but he’s clever enough to do that from his phone when he can. He had a 5 o’clock shadow. Have you ever seen him with even a hint of stubble? Didn’t think so. The only reason he left was because I made him.”

“Mycroft doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to.” Sherlock cut in quickly. It made Greg laugh.

“No. I suppose not. Didn’t know that then, though, did I? Anyway, you woke while he went to sort himself out and were well on your way to running your mouth again so he did as you wanted until it happened all over again.” Greg looked up at that to catch Sherlock’s eyes in a pointed gaze. Sherlock looked away. “Doesn’t mean he didn’t keep asking after you, though. You didn’t even realise that he’d been there, did you?” Greg asked.

“No.” Was the honest reply.

Greg reached over to pat Sherlock’s hand. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad or guilty about anything. I just want you to think before you say things about your brother. You don’t know him as well as you think you do.” He patted the hand once more and moved to stand. “The man adores you, but don’t tell him I told you.” He added with a wink.

Sherlock scowled. Greg grinned.

“Alright.” He checked his watch and started for the door. “I’ll be off then. Just think about it.” Before the door closed he called, “And don’t forget to look at that case!”

The door slammed shut and Greg stepped out onto the street. A faint “Lestrade!” could be heard from the building but he ignored it in favour of the black sedan that pulled up to the curb.


End file.
